


Just One Drink, Just One Dance

by RhysLahey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Beacon Hills Lacrosse Team, Drunken Shenanigans, Hurt Isaac Lahey, Lacrosse, M/M, Romance, night out, scott and isaac are brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhysLahey/pseuds/RhysLahey
Summary: The Beacon County Werewolves lacrosse team go on a night out before an important game to cheer Isaac up after his boyfriend leaves him.
Relationships: Isaac Lahey & Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey/Brett Talbot, Isaac Lahey/Theo Raeken (past)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	Just One Drink, Just One Dance

“The boys are all downstairs waiting for you, McCall,” Jackson said as he poked his head into his co-captain’s hotel room. “Stiles just texted me. He also says that there is something they are going to need to explain?”

“Oh?” Scott arched an eyebrow as he zipped his kit bag shut. Jackson just shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what all the kerfuffle was about. Scott took a few seconds to straighten his burgundy and silver club tie and smooth his navy blazer.

After finishing college, Scott returned to Beacon Hills to open up his own animal clinic, and as much as he liked coaching lacrosse for the high school team, he missed playing too much. So one morning he made a few phone calls to some old friends and together they set up an amateur lacrosse club. Thus, the Beacon County Werewolves were founded. Three years after that, they had made it to the play-offs of the California Cup.

They arrived to Sacramento two nights before, and they spent the following day training and getting used to the pitch where they were going to play. When the evening came, the boys wanted to go on a night out. Scott did not like the sound of that, mostly because he had a dinner date with Allison already planned (the Werewolves were firm believers on bringing the WAGs on their tours) and he did not want to miss out, but also because they had a big game in the afternoon, and he needed the players to be fresh. Lydia Martin (Stiles’ fiancée) said she would keep the players in check, and with that reassurance Scott had let them go.

“Any clue on what this explanation is going to be about?” Scott asked when he got to the elevator, where Jackson was waiting for him, fixing his hair. He was wearing the same pre-game outfit of khaki chinos, navy blazer, light blue oxford, and club tie.

“I think we are about to find out,” he replied, slinging his kitbag over his shoulder and pressing the button for the ground floor.

“Ready, boys, caps are here,” Scott heard a familiar voice after the lift’s door opened with a cling.

When Scott and Jackson walked into the lobby he saw his team lined up already: Stiles, Ethan, Aiden, Liam, Boyd, Greenberg, Corey, Garrett, Nolan, Isaac, and Danny. They were all in their jackets and ties and their kit bags ready, which at first Scott found encouraging, but then he got a proper look at them and noticed it.

“So, listen, Scotty,” Stiles stepped forward when he saw Scott’s wide-open eyes and his gaping mouth. “There is a completely perfect and normal explanation.”

“You bet, Stilinski,” Jackson snarled while Scott opened his mouth like a fish out of water. “Did you go out last night in pre-match clothes?”

“What… how… I mean… What?” Scott stammered.

“I love how eloquent you always are, Scott,” Stiles said with a forced smile. “And Jackson, piss off, because that’s a very impertinent question.”

“You’re all still drunk,” Jackson stated. It was definitely not a question, so Stiles ignored him.

“What on Earth did you _do_ last night?” Scott finally blurted. “And I think that’s a very pertinent question.”

“We got back in time, Scott! See? No harm done,” Stiles waved his hand while putting his other arm across Scott’s shoulders. “We are dry now and ready to go. Don’t pay them much attention.”

“Have you just come back?”

Scott wriggled Stiles’ arm off to walk in front of his lined-up players. They were in their jackets and ties, true, but half of them had lapels or pockets torn off and most of them were covered in what Scott really wished was just mud. There were many badly done ties, there were some beer cans in pockets, and Ethan and Aiden had matching bumps on their foreheads. And while Isaac seemed as if he was nervously hiding something at the far end, Danny was the one stifling a giggle.

“Do I get an explanation?”

“I don’t think there is the need to make a fuss,” Liam explained from the line with a hopeful look in his eyes, having at least the decency to look ashamed when Scott furrowed his brow at him.

“It’s all very simple—“

“I actually agree with Dunbar for once,” Jackson interrupted Stiles. “I think it might be best for everyone if we just get going. I have a feeling that whatever happened might get too embarrassing and, to be fair, I rather not know…”

“No, no, _no_ ,” Scott insisted. “I want to know before we go off to the game. I thought Lydia was keeping an eye on you? Where are all the girls, by the way?”

“They said they would go straight to the pitch,” Stiles half-lied. Nolan and a few other chuckled, while Isaac said something in a hushed tone and wriggled. The girls were going to be at the pitch, but they were probably too hangover to pay much attention to the game. “We followed her instructions to a t.”

“Only one drink,” Aiden said through a grin.

“Only one dance,” his twin added with a smirk.

“You want us to believe that?” Jackson retorted.

“We went out for a laugh, Jackson. Not all of us are boring people who spend their evening in the gym,” Isaac called from the far side as he appeared to fight with something.

“What has Lahey got behind him?” Jackson asked as he walked towards Isaac, but Boyd and Liam stepped in front of him, forming a screen between the co-captains and Isaac while Corey and Greenberg whispered something harsh until Isaac stopped giggling.

“Okay! So, an explanation?” Stiles yelled from the beginning of the line, drawing Scott and Jackson to him and away from Isaac. “Yes, yes. Explanation… so we went to this one bar, right?”

“And we thought we’d have a civilised night,” Danny added.

“Which is why we decided to go out all ready for the game.”

“In case you came back at nine in the morning?” Scott asked.

“ _No_ , it was a team bonding night out,” Liam pointed, as if that were all the explanation Scott needed.

“And the rest… well. It was just things that happen,” Stiles added vaguely.

“ _What_ happened?” Scott demanded with patient emphasis.

“I think it’s going to be less embarrassing if we don’t know—“ Jackson suggested when he saw the players failing again to conceal their chuckles.

“No, I want to know,” Scott insisted.

“Well, we went to this bar, right?” Stiles began. “And Isaac was feeling a bit low, because of… Theo,” he lowered his voice when he mentioned the name of Isaac’s ex.

“I always said he was a cheating bastard,” Ethan said supportingly. “And I was right.”

“I never liked him,” Liam agreed, shaking his head.

“So we made sure that he didn’t drink, because we knew he’d get moody.”

Isaac’s mood had been on and off for a month, ever since Theo broke up with him with a short text after a year together, telling he was moving in with his new girlfriend. Isaac soon found out that Theo had been going out with this Hayden girl for three months.

“And I didn’t have a drink!” Isaac shouted, although from there Scott and Jackson could see his flushed cheeks.

“So we were in this bar with the girls, and we had one drink and one dance, as instructed,” Stiles continued, waving his hands around for further emphasis, diverting the attention from Isaac. “And then is when things went pear shaped.”

“I really don’t think we should know,” Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose.

Scott quickly dismissed Jackson with a wave and prompted Stiles to finish the explanation.

“So we finished our one drink and our one dance, and when we got out it was cold, you see?”

“Very cold. Positively freezing,” confirmed Aiden. Scott and Jackson looked at each other, clearly not believing a word.

“And Isaac was still sulking around—“

“Even if he hadn’t had a drink!” Danny clarified.

“—he hadn’t had a drink,” Stiles agreed. “So we decided to get into a different bar for another drink and another dance. Just to keep us warm, and Isaac distracted, right?”

“Scott, are you sure we want to find out?” Jackson begged. “I know how this story is going to end…”

But Scott wanted to know. So he crossed his arms on his chest and Jackson dropped his bag, sensing this was only going to get longer. He was beginning to understand why Coach Finstock preferred not to stay with his players when on tour.

“And then, in that bar is where we bumped into this journalist from Beacon Hills who was going to cover our game, right? So we thought we could just give him some good stories and some nice mugshots for his article and stuff,” the players, still in line, nodded emphatically, agreeing with their designated spokesperson. “So Lydia and I with a couple of others sat by him, answering questions, while the boys went to the far side of the bar, so they would not interrupt.”

“We only had the one drink,” Liam insisted.

“I see… I see…” Scott muttered. “Well, that was good thinking, but I don’t see how that explains your state.”

“That’s because the story does not finish there,” Boyd admitted.

“Scott, I really _really_ think we don’t want to know…” But Scott interrupted Jackson with a finger and prompted Stiles to continue.

“Well… you see? It becomes slightly more embarrassing after that point…” Stiles paused for a second, but Scott insisted he continued. “Okay… well, so we went out again after that bar, and the girls said that they could do with one last drink before calling it a night, so we found this other place, for one more drink and one more dance, right? Just the one. Well, and the journalist tagged along with us.”

“Right…” Scott sighed.

“And then, like, rotated, so he could meet more of us. So this time it was Boyd and Kira with Ethan and Danny that were with the journalist answering his questions. And then is when Isaac stepped up on the karaoke stage.”

“He did what?” Scott looked at the end of the line, to see his brother waving at him with a grin, while pushing something behind him. In junior year, Jackson went to the police and told them about the terrible abuse Isaac was suffering from his father. Mr Lahey was sent to prison while Isaac, who had lost his mother and brother a few years before, was fostered and later adopted by Melissa McCall.

“Yeah… apparently he had been drinking out of everyone’s drinks, because nobody wanted to see him sullen and sad. And then Liam bought him a couple of drinks, not knowing that Aiden had also bought him shots. Erica was the worst one, though—“

“So it was not just one drink?”

“Scott, you’re missing the point,” Stiles quickly avoided the question. “So, when we were not looking, Isaac weaselled through us and before we could do anything about it he was yelling _All by Myself_ into a microphone. And, boy, I’ll tell you something. I love Isaac, don’t get me wrong. I love your unnecessarily tall brother to bits, and he’s a good man, but he sings _nothing_ like Céline Dion. Especially when he’s tipsy.”

“Thankfully Boyd stepped up,” Liam added.

“Did he bring him down?”

“Well, we did not think that manhandling one of our friends and wrestling him off the stage would look good in front of the reporter,” Boyd explained. “So I stepped up and asked for another song, so Isaac would have to get off the stage.”

“McCall,” Jackson pleaded. “Let’s just go to the game. We have a few hours for this lot to sweat their booze away – it won’t be the first time they play hungover, and I don’t really want to know the rest of the story. Please?” Scott ignored him.

“Then, when Boyd was done,” Stiles went on, “Erica dragged Liam up to the stage and sang _Fairytale of New York_ of all things, and I went out to look for Isaac, because he’s my friend and I care for him, and I had to make sure he was okay, but I couldn’t find him.”

“You lost _Isaac_?” Scott could not believe what he was hearing. “Stiles! How could you lose my brother?”

“No, no, no… he wasn’t lost… it was just that we could not find him. Not lost. Not then at least.”

“Not _then?!_ ”

“Everyone was happily singing, and we were having a great time! And we knew he was _somewhere_ in that bar because Malia was guarding the entrance. Well, she was making out with a French college student. But she was by the door and your brother had not left, so Isaac was not lost… we just didn’t know where in the bar was. Or whom with.”

“Wait. I thought you said Malia was with the reporter?”

“Well… he disappeared too. He was just a journalist, so we didn’t took too much notice. We were too busy watching Liam sing, to be fair. And looking for Isaac, of course.”

“Of course…” Scott rolled his eyes.

“So we were all having a laugh, anyways. Kira and Corey took over the karaoke machine for half an hour. But don’t worry – I did not give up on looking for Isaac, so when I reached the bar to order a new bucket of beers—“

“Bucket?” Scott blurted, while Jackson buried his face in his hands, refusing to look at the chuckling players behind him.

“ _Then_ is when I found Isaac, who was doing great. More than great, being brutally honest. He was well over Theo.”

“How would you know?” Scott asked, immediately knowing he would regret his question.

“He… erm… They… I mean, how could I put it.”

“He was eating this guy’s face,” Ethan explained what Stiles couldn’t. “They were, like, all over each other. All hands and lips. Bum groping…”

“Really, Lahey. Really?” Jackson asked, and Isaac just gave him a smug smirk and pumped his fist while Danny and Ethan wooed. “You were always a classy one.”

“But yeah, told you we hadn’t lost him,” Stiles insisted. “So when the two of them decided to stop for a second to breathe is when we realised that Isaac was snogging the reporter.”

Scott decided he needed to sit down, because none of that really explained why his players looked as if they had crawled through a hedge and rolled down a hill on their way out of a brewery. Stiles spent the next couple of minutes explaining the various songs that the teammates had sang, but Scott was not really listening any more. He heard bits and pieces, like ‘next bar’, ‘wheelbarrow’, ‘shots’, and ‘strawpedo’.

“…and _then_ is when we lost Isaac,” Stiles concluded, giving the two co-captains a nervous smile.

“Wait, no. _What_? Say that again?” Scott had completely forgotten that was coming.

“Well, the bar was closing then, and they were kicking all us out, and we were thinking of what we could do while we waited for the diner to open—“

“What time was it?” Scott asked in disbelief. That morning he had woken up looking forward to the game. He was surprised when he did not see any of the players down in the hotel for breakfast, but he had woken up early to go for a jog.

“—I don’t know. But it was still dark. Then it’s when we realised that Isaac was not there.”

“To be fair,” Liam put his hand up, “Brett wasn’t there either. I told Stiles not to worry.”

“Who’s _Brett_?”

“Scott, you did not listen to a word I just said?” Stiles deadpanned, but Scott had been left speechless. “Brett is the journalist. Like, tall, light brown hair, bright blue eyes…”

“He’s really fit,” Danny chipped in.

“Yeah, we were all a bit jealous,” Corey mumbled, while Isaac turned around, lowered his head and whispered something, causing his teammates to stifle a laugh.

“Oaky, enough of that. Isaac, can you share with the rest of the class what you’re hiding there?” Jackson asked with a tired voice.

“I don’t think he’ll want to share him,” Ethan said, and this time everybody laughed aloud.

“Isaac was lost,” Stiles said through gritted teeth, stopping Scott and Jackson from going over to Isaac. “Very lost. Very, _very_ lost, so we had to go and look for him.”

“Was he lost with Brett?”

“That we only found out later, when we pulled down the fence.”

“A _fence_?” Scott could not believe what he was hearing. Jackson could, and was not impressed.

“Yes, a wooden fence; but we weren’t there yet. At first we searched around the block, but they weren’t there, and we rang him but he was not answering—“

“He was _busy_ ,” Boyd snorted and all the other players laughed. Jackson refrained from commenting.

“So we split into teams and walked a few blocks away in each direction shouting like ‘Isaac, Isaac!’ until we got to some road works… and we… We, well…”

Stiles stopped, visibly struggling to put his words together and blushing deep purple. Ethan did not have such troubles, and explained how they got the traffic cones to make megaphones to call Isaac, carrying them for a good quarter of an hour. Aiden clarified that Lydia and Kira told them that it was a silly idea, so the girls went searching for Isaac their own way. At that point Jackson huffed and begged Scott not to ask any further, that they had heard enough, but his co-captain simply massaged his temples and asked Stiles to continue.

“Anyways, so we were on this random park looking around for Isaac and the girls because they had deserted us—“

“With the cones?”

“ _God_ , Jackson, give us a rest! But yes, if you must know, we did carry the cones. I’m sure Greenberg still has them somewhere. Anyways,” Stiles refocused the conversation before it derailed. “The sky was turning pink when we finally saw the girls.” Stiles was interrupted by the cheering and jeering of his teammates. “They were all piled behind a bush looking at something—“

“But they _hushed_ us before we got any close,” Liam complained with indignation. “As if we were some loud herd of cattle or something!”

“Is there much left of this pointless and embarrassing story?” Scott asked as he shook his head.

“No…?” Stiles let his answer open. Scott bit his lip, regretting even asking. “Well, the girls were looking through this bush into the park, and we approached quiet as a mouse to the bush to see what they were looking at, because they were all giggly and whispery. So we leaned into the bush, but it was not really a bush. It was more like a hedge? Some plants against a fence, in any case. And we piled against it, and the girls were telling us off, and elbowing us away, so we tried to walk through the shrub, and Danny tripped over and pulled from my jacket—“

“You pulled me down!” Danny said, slightly offended that he had been signalled out as the clumsy one. “Ethan and I were perfectly fine, but you bumped into Boyd, stepped back, tripped and fell into the bush not before grabbing my sleeve!”

“Sure, Danny…” Stiles rolled his eyes, even if neither Jackson nor Scott found it funny. “The result is that four long seconds later we all had fallen on the bush, crashed the fence which was already rotting anyway and we should sue the council, pulled it down, and rolled over each other into a duck pond. Then is when we found Brett and Isaac sat on a bench chatting as if we had not spent the best part of an hour looking for them.”

“That’s _not_ what happened!” an unfamiliar voice shouted and all the players burst in laughter.

Scott and Jackson turned their heads to see that someone had just jumped out from behind ISaac while Isaac himself tried to shush him.

“That’s Brett?” Scott deduced.

“I brought him home!” Isaac blurted as he blushed. “It was going to be a surprise.”

“A surprise for whom?”

Isaac went blank as he struggled for an answer, but Brett was the one who spoke.

“Hi, Scott? Yes, I’m Brett. I’m pleased to finally meet you.”

“Why were you hiding behind him?” Scott still did not understand. The other man was tall. Taller than Isaac, in fact. He looked more sober than his brother, but still visibly tipsy. He had to admit that he was handsome, and from Isaac’s dating history, definitely his brother’s type. Which meant that he needed to have a serious chat with him _right then_.

“I told you it was going to be a _surprise_ , Scotty.”

“Well, thank you for taking care of Isaac when he was feeling low,” Scott thanked more brusquely than he wanted, but he had always been very protective of his brother. “We have a game to go to now, so you can come and watch. That was your job today, right?”

“Scott wait,” Isaac said, suddenly serious where he had just been blushing and giggling. He grabbed his brother by the elbow and took him to a side while Jackson, who had been Isaac’s childhood friend and neighbour (and had a similar protection instinct as his co-captain), pinned Brett with his own questions.

“What the fuck happened yesterday?” Scott swore. He never swore. Or, rather, he only swore when he was truly worried.

“Scott, please, listen.”

“I think I’ve listened enough.”

“Listen to my side of the story. Please?”

Isaac displayed his puppy dog eyes which he knew no McCall could resist. Scott growled but let Isaac speak.

“Yes, we went out, but Liam and Ethan already knew that Theo had already posted that thing about dead weight and moving on…” Scott did not know about that, but he knew how hard Isaac had fallen for that douche. Everyone was glad that he was out of the picture, but Isaac had not had an easy time. “Liam told Erica, and she quickly got Lydia to organise our night out. And the boys thought that if we all went out in kit I’d feel better with all of them.”

“Isaac, you know you can always count on me,” Scott was hurt that he had been left aside.

“I knew you wanted to have that dinner date with Allison. I know you’ve got her a ring— don’t deny it. Mum and I know. You’re terrible at hiding stuff. Anyways, we didn’t want to disturb your plans.”

“ _Isaac_ _!_ ”

“No, Scott, please listen. _Yes_ , the boys got me drinks; _yes_ , I cried while singing in the karaoke, but then Brett came to find me,” a fond smile formed on Isaac’s face as he remembered. “He pointed at my tie and asked me if I was a Werewolf, and I looked at his smile and his eyes, and everything was different. He really cared? I don’t know… I was not that drunk, and I could still tell that he was sincerely asking, and not just looking for a there and then. Later he told me that Erica had seen him looking at me and had already grilled him with questions and threats.”

“You’re telling me that Erica gave him the shovel talk and _still_ came over to you?” Scott said with admiration and only a hint of disbelief.

“I think Erica gave him the thumbs up.”

“That’s not _her_ job,” the co-captain spat with resentment.

“Scott…” Isaac warned in a soft tone. He loved his brother, but he could be a bit intense sometimes.

“Sorry, sorry,” he put this hands up. He had already been told off by Melissa about being an overprotective brother.

“Lydia was in it too anyways. He described her as the ‘terrifying ginger one’. So yes, he already knew about Theo and about how I was coping… if my singing was not enough indicator. But he was asking about me, and about what I did, and about lacrosse. He really pulled me out of my Theo-shaped well. I don’t know how I could tell, but he really wanted to make me feel better? Dunno… an odd feeling I got from him. Odd, but good odd. Different odd. He’s actually a very nice guy,” ISaac beamed as he remembered. “He listened to everything I said, and made all the right funny comments.”

Isaac went on talking about all the anecdotes that they had exchanged, and Scott could see on his brother’s face how this man, this random journalist had, overnight, changed him. Isaac’s blue eyes had a spark in them that Scott had not seen in a long while, and that made him happy. Even as he was telling all of this to him, Scott could see how with a giddy-smile Isaac’s eyes drifted over to where Jackson was interrogating Brett.

“You’ve met him only just now,” Scott insisted, still fearing for his brother.

“I _know_ , but I really think there is something different about him. Like… I feel warm inside, and my stomach feels like gooey mush. And we really clicked?”

“You’re still drunk…”

“I’m not, but listen. Yes, Scott, I know it’s just happened. But I _swear_ this time it really feels different. It feels _right_.”

Scott took a deep breath and looked at his brother, who looked back at him. Not that he needed his permission, but for Isaac Scott’s opinion was very important. Scott turned over to look at Brett, who was looking at Isaac with expectation.

“We’ve talked about you,” Isaac explained. “So he knows you’d be funny about him.”

“You know mom and I just want you to be happy—”

“Scott, you are my brother, but this team is also my family,” Isaac said fondly. “After the duck pond we all went to the diner that’s in front of the hotel for breakfast, and they have all already asked him all sort of things.”

“He’s been surrounded by drunk hungry werewolves and he has not run away?” Scott doubted as he looked at the state of his players. Isaac was right: that team felt very much like an extended family. Even Greenberg in his own weird way.

“He told me that for him his family is very important, and that he wanted you to meet him. You might as well give him a chance?” Isaac concluded with a hopeful smile. “I think you’ll like him.”

Scott sighed as he looked up at Isaac and rolled his eyes.

“You could have at least picked a different night to go out like that. We have a game today, if you remember?”

“Thanks, Scott.”

“Oh, shut up. Jackson,” Scott called as he turned. “Call the bus, will you? I think it’s time for us to get going.”

“Come on, get your hungover asses out while I call the bus,” Jackson bellowed a fraction too loud for the players. “Get some fresh air, and God forbid any of you is sick in the bus.” The players gathered their kit and moaned as they made their way to the bright and sunny outside, Greenberg still carrying a traffic cone. “You too, Lahey,” Jackson pointed at Isaac. “Move your ass.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and moaned, but he walked to the door after beaming back at Scott and winking at Brett, both of them standing in the hotel lobby watching the team walk outside.

“Scott, sorry for all this,” Brett apologised. “I really wished we had had a chance to meet differently, but these things happen.”

Scott stood for a second, thinking carefully as he studied the journalist standing in front of him. He would never claim that he was a perfect judge of character, but nobody was able to say that Scott McCall did not give chances.

“I think you are going to be good for him,” was all Scott said vaguely after an uncomfortable pause. “Are you coming to the game?”

“I still have that job to do,” Brett nodded with a smile, feeling that he had passed some sort of test.

“Cool. Make sure you stay afterwards. Then we _all_ can go out for a drink.”

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a "the boys get drunk and silly things happen" story, and then it got a bit out of control. Well, a lot. Anyways, please let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, apologies for my dreadful proof-reading. Please let me know if I've missed something.
> 
> PS: I may or may not have been through a few of the things described by Stiles myself in an infamously memorable rugby tour.


End file.
